


Team spirit

by ilse_writes



Series: Team spirit [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor is human, Current Day, Drinking, Gavin is not a team player, M/M, Nines and Connor are brothers, Nines and Connor are outdoor instructors, Nines has no people skills, Or so he likes to think, Pining Gavin Reed, RK900 is Nines, Rk900 is human, Team Building, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, everyone is human, outdoor activities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-11 14:04:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19929289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilse_writes/pseuds/ilse_writes
Summary: Someone had the unholy idea to go camping with the department, all in the name of 'team building'. Gavin is not liking it very much. That tall instructor with his haughty manners and cool eyes... that one he likes very much.





	1. Day one

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, fair warning: this story is geographically challenged. I wrote a large part of this story while I was on holiday in the Belgian Ardennes and I based most of it on the area, people and facilities there. It is not likely a Detroit based police unit goes camping in Belgium for the weekend, but I'm hoping you guys/gals will bear with me for this one. If possible, just imagine it is in Canada: they speak French there too!  
> Also, this story does not take place in 2038 and there are no androids: Gavin is a police detective in our current day and age. 
> 
> Other than that: enjoy the story!

“Team building,” Fowler called it.

Chris said it would boost their team spirit.  
“Sure,” Tina answered with a wide grin, “as long as there are spirits involved of the alcoholic variety!”

Gavin stared at the tent that would be his home for the next four days. It smelled damp and musty, reminding him of his short time with the boy scouts. There were ten cots inside, five on each side.  _ Christ _ , he would need a lot of those ‘spirits of the alcoholic variety’ to get through this.

Tina pushed him aside, jostling him with her large overnight bag. She tossed the bag on the last cot on the left, nearly toppling the thing over. “I call dibs!”

“Oh, fuck no!” Gavin called out and made the few steps it took to get to the back of the tent. He grabbed Tina’s bag and dropped it on the second to last cot, claiming the last one for himself. It was bad enough that he had to share a tent with nine other people; if he woke up in the morning the only face he could remotely bear to see was Tina’s. God forbid he would have to sleep next to Anderson!

Tina flipped him off, though she made no move to take her bed back. She pulled a tightly rolled sleeping bag from her luggage and started to make her bed. Gavin merely tossed his overnight bag and rolled up sleeping bag on his cot, laying down with his feet up on his bag.   
Around him, the others were making up their bed. There’s twenty of them, occupying two tents on a camp field in the valley.  
It’s nice around here; green hills covered in trees, suddenly interrupted by steep, jagged rocks. There’s a shallow river running right behind their tents. Even with everyone talking Gavin could hear the murmur of the water.  _ Great _ . He’d probably have to pee three times that night because of the sound of running water right next to his bed.

The camp field was narrow, stretching out along the river. Their tents were at the back of the field, one of five similar setups. Each group of tents had their own common tent: an open structure with wooden tables and benches underneath a roof of cloth. There was also a kitchen of some sort. And a fire pit, giving Gavin awful visions of singing  _ kumbaya _ and shit. He’s pretty sure he saw one of the officers carrying a guitar case before they left this morning.

“Everybody outside!” The sound of Fowler’s voice was as loud here as it was in the bullpen. Gavin thanked his lucky stars he’s not sharing a tent with the captain.

Everyone gathered by the common tent, sitting down at the tables. Gavin tested the stability of the wooden bench by rocking it back and forth, much to the dismay of the colleagues next to him. “Don’t act like such a child,” Anderson grumbled from the other side of the bench.

Gavin wanted to say something in return, yet had to settle for flipping the lieutenant off behind his back. Just like everyone else, Anderson had turned his attention towards two men that stood in front of the tent. At first, Gavin thought they were twins, they looked very much alike. Tall, dark hair, pale skin and full lips. Both were dressed in the same black and white polo shirt with the logo of the outdoor adventure company on their breast: CB-Life.   
The shortest of the two - though both had some inches on Gavin - had a clipboard in his hands. “Good afternoon everyone!” he said in a cheerful voice Gavin immediately disliked. “My name is Connor and this is my brother Nines. We are your instructors for the next few days.” 

Gavin tuned out the rest of the guy’s introduction speech and leaned over towards Tina. “The fuck kind of name is Nines?”

“Maybe he’s actually called Gavin, but he hates that name,” she hissed back. “Now shut up, I want to hear this.”

He made a face at her and focused his attention on the lines in the wood of the table top. He paid just enough attention to what was being said to pick out the keywords: archery, KP roster and a night stroll with GPS.   


The tallest of the two instructors suddenly appeared next to his elbow, slapping a piece of paper and a pen on the table. “Fill this in. Four days, means five people a day.”

“What? No  _ please _ ?” Gavin drawled, but the instructor was already walking away again. He had some of those sensible outdoor pants on, the ones with too many pockets and zippers; but  _ damn _ if they didn’t show off his ass nicely!

“Please fill in the KP schedule, make yourself acquainted with the premises and we’ll see you in an hour at our archery range!”  The one called Connor was certainly more upbeat than his brother. It was almost like they had some good cop / bad cop routine going. If you were scared of abseiling, Connor would try to sweet talk you over the ledge and if that didn’t help his stoic brother would simply push you over.

Gavin refrained from grabbing the form from officer Person next to him, though he stabbed his finger at the first slots. “Put me down for today. I don’t want to be cleaning up after everybody once we are two days down with this shit!”

She begrudgingly did what he asked, putting down ‘Reed’ on the list for today. When the list was full, his name stood there together with Anderson’s and Ben Collin’s, and two rookie officers.

Waiting for the hour to be done, Gavin wandered towards the washroom for a quick inspection. It was pretty basic, with toilet and shower stalls on one side and sinks on the other. It was old, but clean, save for some cobwebs on the ceiling. He also spotted a swallow’s nest against the top beam, the birds having free access through the gap between the walls and the elevated roof.   
Walking around the building, he spotted a field with caravans on the other side of the trees. There was a clothesline with the already familiar black and white polo shirts, telling him that was were the CB-Life crew slept. Some job, living the whole summer in a caravan!

***

The archery range was a twenty minute uphill walk from the campsite, having them walk single file on the side of the road. Despite being in the valley, there was not a single flat road to be seen around here. You either went up, or down, with hairpin turns to mix up with the S-turns.   
The instructors were nowhere to be seen, they probably took the car up there. Sure enough, there was a four wheel drive pick up truck with the CB-Life logo on it parked at the entrance of the archery range.  
It was an abandoned quarry, the round targets put up against a steep rock wall. Gavin also spotted a shit load of empty beer crates, no doubt for one of those ‘build the highest tower’ activities. 

Their instructors were standing by a shed made of corrugated iron, bows and arrows waiting for them. Again, Connor did the talking, with Nines standing like a soldier at ease a little behind him. They showed them how to use the bows and warned them of the sting of the string if they overstretched their arm.   
“Now, if you’ll follow us to the targets, Nines will show you how it’s done.”

There were five targets in a row. Nines picked the middle one, taking a stance at a fair distance. With short, clipped words he repeated his brother’s earlier instructions, lifting the bow and taking aim. He had been looking towards the group while he talked and only glanced at the target shortly before he released the arrow. Bullseye. 

Some people started clapping. “Lucky shot!” Gavin called out from the back.

Cool, grey eyes found his, locking him in a stare for a second. When Gavin tore his eyes away he saw Connor holding up four arrows. One after the other they all ended up in the bullseye of each target, the stoic expression never leaving Nines’ face.

Tina elbowed him in the side. “Beat that, huh?!”

“Fucking Robin Hood probably does this every day,” Gavin scoffed. “I can do the same with my gun.”  
Doing it with a bow and arrow turned out to be very different. Gavin swore he was a good shot, yet these medieval tools were hell to work with. His first shot fell short, several others bounced off against the rock slates behind the target. He did manage to hit the outer rings of the target four times too.

The CB-Life instructors went from group to group, giving pointers and sometimes correcting someone’s grip on the bow. This time Gavin was up when Nines came to check on their group. The instructor didn’t say anything, he just watched with his hands clasped behind his back. He was right there on the edge of Gavin’s vision, silently judging every move he made. From this close Gavin could see how the polo shirt stretched across strong shoulders and a well sculpted chest. As if his hot ass wasn’t enough already.   
Robin Hood was built like a Greek god, alas with the same personality as one of those marble statues. He didn’t move a muscle, seemingly oblivious to Gavin’s discomfort under his gaze.  
_ Fuck _ , no, this was probably payback for Gavin’s remark from earlier. Fucker  _ wanted _ to make him nervous! Well, Gavin was not gonna let him have that satisfaction! Robot Hood could stare all he want, he was gonna show him he could at least hit the target!

It was his best shot until now, only two tiny rings away from the bullseye. Yet Gavin sweared up a storm because the string of the bow had hit the exposed skin of his lower arm. He dropped the bow, Nines catching it swiftly in one hand before taking Gavin’s elbow in the other. Gavin had his hand pressed against the hurt patch of skin, yet one look from Nines made him remove his hand. The instructor nodded once in approval. “The skin’s not broken. Cooling it will reduce the swelling.”

He let go of Gavin’s elbow and gave the bow to Tina, who eyed Gavin’s arm worriedly. “Geez, Gav, that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise!”

“It’s not like we didn’t warn you,” Nines tutted condescendingly. Gavin parroted the instructor soundlessly behind his back, immediately shutting his mouth when Nines looked over his shoulder. “You coming?”

Nines appointed him a chair outside the shed - which Gavin didn’t take - disappearing inside for a few moments. He returned with an ice pack wrapped in a tea towel. One look told Gavin what the instructor thought of him not taking the chair and the only thing keeping Gavin from talking back was how nice the ice pack felt against his skin.  
“There is always one,” Nines remarked before he walked back to the rest of the group. His tone was too flat to be teasing, yet Gavin was sure he was being made fun of.

*** 

Anderson and Ben took charge of cooking and Gavin let them, glad to be doing something simple as cutting vegetables. Tonight’s dinner was spaghetti and meatballs, the whole thing another exercise in working together. However, working in a profession with ranks and titles made them fall into the habit of following orders easily. Hank Anderson was the highest ranking officer, but old Ben was calling the shots in the kitchen. Anderson simply repeated his instructions down the line. The old drunk probably didn’t even know how to cook. Not that Gavin had any right of speaking; he lived on take out and microwave dinners more often than not. 

Dinner ended up being fairly decent and Gavin offered to wipe down the tables while the other four did the dishes. He found a coffee maker and even a tin of coffee, making him the man of the moment for the many caffeine addicts among the police officers; anything to make them forget about his painful fuck up from that afternoon. His hoodie hid the evidence, the skin on his lower arm already a nasty shade of blue despite the ice pack.

The CB-Life brothers returned that evening with five GPS trackers. “The coordinates are set for this location,” Connor explained. “We’ll drop each group in a different location, all within the same distance from this camp. First team to make it back is the winner.”

Groups were made at random and Gavin ended up with Chris Miller, Sara Lee Person and a female officer whose name he always forgot. Nancy? Cynthia? Something with a Y in it. His pairing could be better, could be worse.  
Being dropped in the middle of shit and being told by a perky Connor it was a five mile hike back to camp  _ couldn’t _ be worse. And that was only if they found the shortest route and didn’t get lost.

Person and Sylvia - Gavin was pretty sure it was Sylvia. Or Lydia - were holding the GPS, leading the way. The GPS only gave a direction, regardless of roads or other manmade structures. They started out easy, following a dirt road that more or less went in the right direction. Then they crossed an empty field that belonged to cows, considering the droppings Gavin almost planted his foot in. And now they were standing in front of a cornfield.

“I’m not gonna walk through that!”  _ Libby _ claimed. “Haven’t you guys seen  _ Children of the corn _ ?”

“Please,” Gavin scoffed. “The original was only mildly scary and that remake was a fucking joke!”  
He was ready to jump the small ditch and trek through the shoulder high corn, yet his ‘team’ decided otherwise. They wanted to get around it, even when Gavin showed them the map on his phone to prove their way was at least half a mile longer.

“They said  _ no phones _ , Reed!” Person admonished him. 

“What if there is an emergency?” he shot back. Like, when your team insisted on taking the long road.

“That’s what this red button on the GPS is for! It’s no fun when you cheat by using a map!” The two women teamed up on him now, with Miller smiling sheepishly and trying to stay out of it. In the end, Gavin trailed behind the three, playing stupid games on his phone. If they didn’t appreciate his input, he would keep his mouth shut. As if he cared.

They came through a tiny village, no more than a few houses, a church and a pub. If it even was a pub; it could very well be someone’s living room, although the lights were on and there was a light up sign against the outside wall with the logo of a local beer brewery. A monastery, if he was not mistaken.  _ Fuck _ , that promised excellent beer!  
“Hey guys, who’s thirsty?”  
To his horror, they checked their watches. Damn it, where was Tina when you needed her?   
“Come on, Chris! It’s trappist beer! That’s fucking good!”

“I dunno, man…” Miller rubbed the back of his neck. “I kinda want to win this thing.”

Gavin didn’t even bother to try and persuade the women. Like hell they would want to stop for a beer, least of all  _ with him _ .    
The door of the cafe opened and Gavin heard voices talk in French. There was laughter and the smell of cigarettes wafted outside. Beer  _ and _ smoking inside? Fuck yes!  
“You guys go on without me. I’ll see you at the campsite!”

As if they already expected this, the two women only rolled their eyes in response. Miller was the only one who showed some concern. “How will you get back?”

Gavin waved his phone in the air. “I’ve got a map! Or I’ll call a cab.”

“Good luck getting a cab in the middle of bumfuck nowhere!” Person laughed at him, yet Gavin merely showed her his favourite fingers and kicked the door to the bar open with the back of his foot.

He might get his ass chewed out by Fowler for this little stunt, but fuck if this beer wasn’t worth it! He might have drank the first two a bit too fast; all that walking around made him thirsty. A quick check on his phone told him he was less than two miles from the campsite. If he couldn’t get a taxi, he could always walk back.  
Gavin ordered another beer, meaning to savor this one. He entertained himself by playing games on his phone, sipping from his beer. He also allowed himself a cigarette, even though he had already smoked his personal maximum of four today. 

Those monks sure knew how to brew beer! At some point, three beers became six beers. Or more? Whatever. Those French speaking locals weren’t too bad either, especially if they bought him beer and gave him cigarettes. Gavin was quite content with his place at the bar, his phone - with dying battery - long forgotten.

***

A slightly familiar voice filtered through his hazy brain. “Got him, you can turn back.”

He turned around to see six foot something of handsome standing behind him. Nines pocketed his phone in his cargo pants. The black and white polo shirt was hidden underneath a tight fitting fleece jacket, zipped up all the way to his chin, giving him the appearance of wearing a black turtleneck sweater. It looked  _ good _ .

“Hey! If it isn’t Robo… Robin Hood!” Gavin motioned at his new friends. “Guys! This sexy fucker here can do some fucking neat tricks with a bow and arrow! He’s hot  _ and _ he has skills!”

Nines ignored him, saying something in French to the bartender. He turned Gavin on his stool back towards the bar. “Pay your tab. You’re coming with me.”

Gavin grinned. “Your place or mine? I sure as fuck hope your place, because my place is a three hour drive from here! Or if you don’t mind me having roommates, I’ve got a nice tent close by.”

Nines took Gavin’s wallet from his hands and pulled out some bills. “You strike me as a generous tipper,” he said coolly, handing over the money to the bartender.

“And  _ you _ strike me as a generous top!” Gavin guffawed, pawing at his wallet to put it back in his pocket. 

A strong hand gripped him by his neck, pushing him off his stool and towards the door. Gavin protested, though the hand wouldn’t budge. Parked in front of the bar was the black and white pickup truck. A dreary drizzle had started, making the night a lot colder.

“If you keep quiet, I’ll let you ride in the cabin instead of in the back.”   
They paused in front of the truck bed. It didn’t look very inviting, with random ropes and whatever the hell the other outdoor stuff was. It was all wet too, apparently it had been raining for a while.  
Gavin made a gesture as if to zip up his lips and walked around the car to the passenger side. Nines was already behind the wheel, his hand at the perfect ten to two position. When Gavin finally clicked his seatbelt in place, he turned the ignition and drove off.  
“Don’t even think about puking in the car,” were the only words he said, keeping silent for the rest of the drive.

Gavin did indeed get chewed out by Fowler, aided by a vicious Hank Anderson. As if the lieutenant wouldn’t like a drink too, hypocrite fucker.  
Most people were already in bed, chased from the campfire by the rain. It turned out the last group came in two hours before Gavin. And when they couldn’t reach him, Connor and Nines drove off in separate cars to come find him. Nines went straight to the bar, over the main roads, while Connor took the back roads to see if Gavin might had started walking back.   
Gavin didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He was a grown ass man, he would have found his own way back!  
He didn’t thank Nines for the ride; not that the instructor waited for him to say something. He drove off as soon as Tina intercepted them by the washroom and took Gavin back to the camp to be yelled at.


	2. Day two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reed wakes up with a hangover. Luckily, the day's activities chase the headache away. But what would Nines think of his little stunt from the other night?

The next morning came too early for Gavin. Tina woke him up by tipping over his cot, giving the weak excuse she already called for him to wake up three times. More like whisper three times and find a reason to throw his sleeping ass on the ground.  
Gavin almost coughed up his lungs on the floor, reminding him of why he cut back on his smoking a while back. Maybe he should quit for real one of these days. 

Breakfast sucked, the coffee was divine.

The wonder twins who were not twins showed up again, this time dressed in cycling gear. Connor looked like he could compete in the Tour de France or the Giro, Gavin could picture him on a racing bike easily. Nines was a little bigger, with thighs that looked like they could crush those dainty racing bikes. 

Gavin’s mind was a bit muddled on what happened exactly last night. He drank a lot. Nines showed up to take him back to the camp, where Fowler was ready to yell at him for lacking team spirit.  
He had a hangover, but hell if he was gonna let that show. If he could do his job as a detective on a hangover, he could also do whatever it was they wanted of him today. He could ride a bicycle, sure.

“Think you’re gonna stay with the group today?” Connor informed casually as he handed Gavin a bike helmet.

“Depends on whether we come across a bar,” Gavin joked. 

“Nines will lead today,” Connor answered seriously. “I don’t think he’ll bring you anywhere near establishments like that.”

“Couple of party animals, aren’t you two?” Gavin muttered, fixing the chin strap of his helmet.

“Just a low tolerance of bullshit, that’s all.”

“Ha! Then you’re gonna love Reed!” Anderson patted Connor jovially on his shoulder. “You will get along just peachy with Detective Asshole here.” 

“Speak for yourself, Lieutenant Bozo.”

“Eloquent, Reed. Real strong comeback.”

“I see we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Connor cut them off in his upbeat manner. “Your unit is in need of some proper team building activities.”  
Both policemen glared at the chipper instructor, yet Connor wasn’t fazed. “Your helmet,  _ lieutenant _ ,” he said and Gavin sweared Anderson sported a faint blush from the way the outdoor instructor addressed him.   
So all it took was someone young and fit, emphasizing his title. Gavin scoffed; the lieutenant must not have seen action in a very long time if he was this easy to fluster.

Gavin was actually looking forward to this activity. He spent a lot of time in the gym on a spinning bike, so he was fairly confident he could pull this off. It should be fun to cycle up a real hill instead of an imaginary one.   
And it  _ was _ fun, although it was much more of a challenge than in the gym. Gavin enjoyed himself, his hangover pretty soon non-existent. 

At first, he was not sure what the team building factor was in mountain biking, yet he soon found himself helping colleagues get their bike in the right gear or shouting encouraging words to help them get up the hill. In his case, those encouraging words were not exactly nice, but hey, whatever gets the job done! He checked his tongue when shouting the captain upwards, though; no sense in making him mad twice within 24 hours.  
Gavin didn’t really think about what he’s doing, he’s not the only one doing it anyway. The more trained cyclists all helped their lesser companions. Not everyone reached the top without having to walk next to their bike, though they all made it.

Connor cycled past Gavin when they stopped at a dirt road next to the main road. “Good job, Gavin!”  
He sounded much too smug to only be talking about Gavin reaching the top. He sounded like a teacher who is proud at his student who always gets detention and now finally has done something commendable. Gavin hated it.

He didn’t hate the mildly appreciative look he got from Nines, catching his gaze when he tipped his water bottle back.

There’s this nagging feeling that he said some embarrassing shit last night, though the instructor showed no reaction today. Gavin kind of lost the filter between his mouth and his brain when he drank, who knew what kind of stuff he spewed! It couldn’t be too bad though, Nines didn’t look like the type who took shit lying down and he didn't seem angry last night nor today. 

“For the road down we’ll split up in two groups,” Connor explained after their rest. “I’ll take the main road, Nines will… not.” 

“Follow me if you don’t mind getting dirty,” the tallest brother grinned and it’s the closest thing to a smile Gavin had seen on him. 

He was suddenly curious to what it was that made the stoic instructor show an emotion like that. “I’m in!”

Tina took the challenge too and there were about eight of them that would follow Nines off road. The rest would go down the easy way with Connor.   
Nines wasn’t kidding when he said they would get dirty. The rain from the previous night made the trails muddy and slippery. Everyone - except their perfect instructor - ended up in the mud more than once, their bike slipping out from under them. The mud was up to Gavin’s ears and he enjoyed every second of it. It was a thrill to ride his bike as fast as he could - or dared - down the narrow trail. He’s pleased to be able to keep up with the rookie cops, at least ten or twelve years his junior.   
This area was great for mountain biking off road. Every now and then Gavin saw short glimpses of the main road, the rest of the time he was manoeuvring around trees or down rocky slopes. For some parts Nines took them down a predetermined path, marked with yellow paint on the trees. He also guided them through uncharted areas, picking his way down the hill seemingly by chance.

Gavin was the first one to reach the end of the trail, where Nines was waiting for them, his bike resting between his legs.   
“That was fucking great!” Gavin could feel the mud on his face stretch when he smiled wide. 

The yellow, mirroring glasses of Nines’ sporty shades looked him over, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Glad to see you’re participating with enthusiasm this time.”   
The instructor was not mud-free either: his face and body were speckled with dark dots and splatters.

“What can I say? I need something a little more thrilling than taking a stroll in the middle of nowhere.” 

Nines cocked his head a little, as if he’s thinking about that statement. “How’s your arm?” he suddenly asked.

Gavin totally forgot about his bruises from their archery activity. He moved his mud-covered arm back and forth. “Nothing to see!”  
Underneath all the mud was a nice bruise, covering a large part of his inner elbow and lower arm, though it was not nearly as bad as it could have been without the ice pack Nines provided him with. 

The rest joined them and they had a good laugh about their muddy appearances. Someone got out a camera and Nines took a picture of the group of mud monsters. Gavin flipped the camera off with a wide smirk. 

At the campsite they were reunited with the rest, who were sitting at the edge of the stream, most of them with their bare feet in the water. Gavin kicked off his shoes, to discover his feet were basically the only clean part of his body. Without a word he flung himself backwards in the river, splashing a wave of water at his colleagues.  
“ _ Christ _ , Reed!” Anderson cursed even louder when Gavin splashed him again. 

“What’s the matter, old man?” Gavin smirked. “Don’t like water when it doesn’t have any alcohol in it?” 

“I think there’s plenty of alcohol in it, it’s still leaking from your pores from last night!”

“Lieutenant, detective,” said Connor, disappointment colouring his voice. It was enough to shut the lieutenant up, his feet suddenly becoming an interesting thing to study. 

Gavin chuckled quietly and moved his attention towards washing the mud from his face. A few minutes later he heaved himself out of the water, making sure to give Tina a dripping wet hug. 

He peeled his soaking wet shirt from his back and grabbed his towel from that morning from one of the tentlines. On his way to the washroom he passed Nines and Connor, who were loading the mountain bikes on a trailer. 

“A bath in the river was not enough?” Nines asked when he was close by.

Gavin stopped next to them, trying to forget he was only wearing dripping wet cycling shorts at the moment. “Ha, no, you weren’t joking when you said we would get dirty!”

“I hardly ever joke about such things, detective,” Nines answered lowly and  _ fuck _ , it turned out the lieutenant wasn’t the only one who was sensitive for hearing his title. Gavin blamed his temporary black out on that when he didn’t see the next move coming. Nines gently swiped his thumb across the bridge of Gavin’s nose. “Missed a spot.”  
As if nothing happened, the instructor continued to load the bikes on the trailer, leaving Gavin to flee for the washroom to hide his incriminatingly flushed cheeks. 

***

The evening program was some version of ‘murder mystery’, having them search for clues among each other and around the campsite. It was not like he really needed detective skills for this, it was more like making smalltalk. If anything, it was a social game: not really Gavin’s forte.

It was only Connor tonight, with Nines nowhere in sight. Gavin felt a bit silly for checking for the tall instructor every thirty minutes or so. He wasn’t even sure if Nines was interested in him or not. He’d like to think so, especially because of that little moment this afternoon. But then again, it easily could’ve been nothing. Or just teasing.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” said Tina, sidling up to him. “Why the long face?”

The game was coming to an end, with Connor tallying up the scores. Gavin only half-heartedly participated, so he didn’t bother turning in his score sheet. They were sitting down on a log by the yet to be lit campfire, Gavin tearing up his score sheet and tossing the little bits of paper onto the wood pile.   
“It’s just a fucking kids game. We’re cops for fuck’s sake, why do we have to solve a murder on our weekend off?”

“No, no, no,” Tina tutted, dismissing his words. “This isn’t your  _ I’m annoyed _ face. This is your  _ sad _ face.”

“I don’t have a sad face! This is my  _ this sucks _ face!” 

“Mind telling me what sucks so much then?” Tina smiled encouragingly, like how a shark would smile at its prey before eating it.

_ I’ve got a teeny tiny crush on the hot outdoor instructor and he isn’t here tonight, so I’m moping _ . 

“I want to have a smoke, but I shouldn’t,” Gavin said instead. “I’m trying to convince myself I already smoked enough last night.”

His friend scrunched up her nose. “Yes, you smelled like you rolled around in an ashtray. I’m surprised Nines didn’t make you ride in the back of the truck! You reeked, Reed!”

So he could add ‘smelling bad’ to the list of bad things from last night. Being drunk and saying inappropriate and/or embarrassing things wasn’t enough already. And don’t forget having the instructors come look for him and haul him back like he was some fucking teenager! Although that last part wasn’t technically Gavin’s fault, he really would have found his own way back. Somehow. Eventually.

As if she could read his mind, Tina cut through his thoughts. “So far for making a good impression on Nines.”   
The way he rounded on her gave everything away in a split second, making Tina’s smirk only wider. Gavin scowled at her, turning back to ripping his score sheet to shreds with renewed fervor.   
“He has a great ass, I’ve got to give you that,” she remarked casually, her eyes glinting. 

“It’s alright,” Gavin muttered, making Tina laugh.

“Oh, please! Your eyes were glued to his ass the moment you saw him!”

Gavin clapped his hand over her mouth. “Shut up, you talk too loud.”  
Tina licked his palm, yet Gavin held on. A childish trick like that didn’t work on him. His friend thrusting her tongue back and forth between his fingers did, though. He let her go with a disgusted cry. “Stop having sex with my hand!”

“Uh, is this the wrong time? Should I come back later?” A bewildered Chris stood behind them, looking from one to the other.

“No, please join! The more the merrier!” Tina called out, pulling Chris down to sit on the log next to her. 

That statement wasn’t exactly Gavin’s credo, yet with Chris here Tina would let the subject of Nines go. She was a little shit, though she would never call him out on something like this in front of their colleagues.

More and more people came to sit at the firepit, someone lighted the fire and things were actually nice. Connor even stayed, chatting with some rookie officers that sat on his left side. On his right side was Anderson, talking to Ben. The old man was lucky; it didn’t take long for Connor to pick up a conversation with him. Gavin saw him show some pictures on his phone to the outdoor instructor and from the way Connor almost squealed at seeing the pictures, Gavin figured they must be of Sumo. There was nothing else even remotely cute in the lieutenant’s life. He was a cat person himself, he didn’t care for dogs, especially large ones like the Saint Bernard. 

“Please don’t tell me Connor is looking at dog pictures.” The voice took Gavin by surprise. He looked up to see Nines standing close behind him, his gaze fixed on the other side of the firepit, where his brother sat.

“Would you rather have me tell you it’s porn?” The words were out before Gavin could check himself. So much for amending that horrible impression from last night. 

Luckily, Nines actually went with it. “It would make it easier for me to take him home if it were porn,” he said. “If it’s dog pictures, Connor could be here the whole night.”

Gavin chuckled lightly. “Then I suggest you get settled in, because the lieutenant owns a Saint Bernard that makes even the toughest man go soft.”

“Ugh, those beasts drool.” Nines made a face like he knew that fact from first hand experience. 

“Not a dog person, I take it?” Gavin had to crane his neck to see Nines’ face, with him standing to his full height right behind the detective. 

“I like cats better,” Nines answered, looking down to him. “Less slobber, more of a mind of their own.”

“Cats are assholes, just the way I like ‘m.”

The instructor grabbed a nearby tree log and sat down. “You have cats?”

Gavin turned a little so he could face Nines, who sat just outside the circle of tree trunks. “Two of 'm. Took them home from a crime scene a couple of years back. You?”

The instructor shook his head. “Can’t keep pets with this job: I’m away for five months a year.”

His words made Gavin conclude that Nines lived alone, so chances were he was also single. Gavin perked up at that, determined to get to know him better. Though the instructor wasn’t a man of many words, it was still nice to talk to him. They had an easy conversation going, talking about the upcoming activities, Gavin’s work and little things about their own lifes. Gavin learned Nines worked as a personal trainer when he wasn’t up here working for CB-Life with his older brother. As it turned out, the brothers didn’t live too far from Detroit, a happy - very happy - coincidence. 

“So, uh…” Gavin rubbed his neck with his hand. “Coming to pick up people when they stay away for too long, that’s kinda your thing, isn’t it?”  
_ Smooth, Gavin, real smooth. _

“I see why you would get that impression,” Nines answered, glancing over towards Connor. He had made no move yet to get his brother, though. “I can assure you I don’t try to make a habit out of it.”

“About last night…”  _ Come on, Gavin, man up.  _ “I was a little drunk, I must have said some pretty stupid things, right?” 

“I remember some unusual remarks, yes.” There it was, that slight lift at the corners of his mouth. Gavin took it as a good sign that Nines was seeing the humor of the situation.

“I guess I owe you an apology. I don’t mean half the shit I say when I’m drunk.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Or any of it, really.” 

“I see.” Nines fell silent, his fingers digging in the fabric of his pants. After a few seconds he stood up. “I’ll be off now. Good night.”  
The instructor walked around the campfire to tap his brother on the shoulder, exchanging some short words before he disappeared into the dark. 

Dumbfounded, Gavin stared after him. “What the fuck did I do?”


	3. Day three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is left to wonder why Nines left so suddenly. The next day he feels ignored by the handsome instructor, which is not great for Gavin's mood. Fortunately, Tina knows a way to get Nines' attention again.

The next morning Gavin still didn’t understand why Nines left so suddenly. Talking it over with Tina didn’t help; she had no clue either. He sort of apologized for his behaviour from the other night and the instructor suddenly turned cold and took off; like they were not having a nice chat just moments before. Gavin had just started to believe he might actually get somewhere with him. At first approach Nines seemed cold and stoic, yet Gavin had seen that he had passion for his work and he always kept an attentive eye on the people around him. And the instructor ticked off a lot of boxes on Gavin’s wishlist: he was tall, fit, strong, with big hands that looked like they would fit just right... Not that he was looking for a quick fuck behind the washroom or anything like that; exchanging numbers would be a nice place to start. Nines living not too far from the city gave them a real opportunity to meet up after the outdoor season was over. However, those thoughts were quickly squashed when Nines disappeared in the dark.

This morning they were back in the old quarry, Connor and Nines standing in front of the rows and rows of stacked beer crates. The plastic crates came in all sorts of colours, with stickers and stamps of different breweries in varying shades of visibility. Some of those designs were already out of rotation, the colour of the plastic crate faded from sun, wind and rain. Other crates were fairly new, their brightness sticking out.

Once again they were divided in groups, Gavin and Tina ended up together for a change. The goal for each group was too build the highest single stack tower, using no other tools than their bodies and the plastic crates. Gavin hoisted Tina up on his shoulders and their other teammates handed her small stacks of crates to put up. Their method didn’t work too well; Tina tried standing up on Gavin’s shoulders, but soon she lost her balance and she and the tower of crates came down. Their teammates caught Tina and Gavin kicked at the toppling tower, giving it a push to fall down a little further away from them. 

Theirs wasn’t the only tower that came down, in the end there were only two towers still standing. The highest was from Chris his group, who added crates to the bottom instead of the top, carefully lifting the stack each time to put a couple of crates under it. It wasn’t easy: when the other groups tried that method in the second round there were lots of cries and curses, because the towers easily tipped over when they lifted them. 

They got a third try and Gavin lost his interest in the activity. He had this childish urge to do good in Nines’ eyes, yet the instructor barely even looked at him this whole morning. If he didn’t get credits for his good behaviour, what was the point? 

Last night Nines had listened attentively to stories about his work, asking all kinds of questions about the conduct of a police investigation. And it weren’t the typical kind of questions either, like the ones you got at a birthday party when you were stuck with the not-so-funny uncle of the birthday boy or girl. Nines didn’t ask how many times he had to shoot a criminal or if he ever lost the key to his handcuffs. He asked about the all-nighters when you were stuck on a case, the amount of time you spent waiting for lab results, but also about the thrill of a chase or finally solving a difficult case. Intelligent questions, that made Gavin think the instructor didn’t just see him as a tough guy with a gun on his hip. Sure, Gavin took care to stay in shape and he was at the shooting range every week, yet that was not why he became a detective. He liked using his brain, placing himself in the scene of the crime, imagining what went down, how it happened and more importantly: why. And Nines understood that, even seemed to like that about him. Or, so Gavin thought. Until the handsome instructor got to his feet out of the blue and practically ran off. 

“You can keep moping, or you can help us build that tower,” Tina said with a push to his arm. “I know which way is guaranteed to keep you on his blacklist.”

“I’m not on his blacklist,” Gavin bristled. “Am I?” He was suddenly unsure. Maybe he had unconsciously said or done something that made him fall out of grace with the instructor. 

“I don’t know. But you’re gonna end up on mine if you don’t move your ass and help us!”

The last assignment was to build one large tower all together. Because they now had  _ all _ the crates to build with, they could make a kind of stairs to support the tower and help them get the crates up top. Not wanting to walk back and forth with crates a gazillion times, Gavin ushered some people in a line to pass on the crates to the builders. That wasn’t lazy of him, it was smart. Prove him wrong.

The tower they got together was quite impressive. Connor counted the crates, telling them they were just two crates short of crushing the all time record. Of course they couldn’t let that stand, so they worked hard to get another four crates up - Chris risking his neck to get the last one on top.

“Will you watch it!” Anderson shouted. “I don’t wanna be the one to tell Ellis her husband got killed being stupid!”

“No flag on your casket if you get killed here, Miller!” Gavin added, watching his colleague nearly lose his balance with a queasy feeling in his stomach. This would be a real stupid way to die.

***

After lunch they all piled in vans, following the CB-Life 4x4 that towed a large trailer filled with kayaks. It would be a journey of almost ten miles over water, before they reached their campsite again. 

The water in the river wasn’t that deep, some parts were very shallow and they had to form a single line to get through the deepest parts. Sometimes you even hit rock bottom - literally - and had to step out of your kayak to pull it towards a deeper part of the water. Other parts had fast streams, pushing through narrow openings between rocks. 

Connor led the way, with Nines at the back. Gavin and Tina trailed somewhere near the end too, leisurely paddling along the stream. Nature here sure was pretty, with lush greens that stretched their branches over the water, rocks that popped up out of the water and fields with cattle that lazed in the sun. Birds tweeted their songs from every side of the river and crickets could be heard over the sound of the water. Every now and then they saw some houses, though most of the time it was just twenty two blue kayaks and nothing but water and nature. 

A little bit in front of them officer Person had managed to get herself stuck in roots that hung over the water. Tina pushed the front of Gavin’s kayak towards her. “Go save the damsel in distress!”

“I don’t like damsels,” Gavin retorted, flinging water up with his paddle. Tina did the same, turning the thing in a full on splash war. Behind them, Nines fished Person out of her temporary prison and gave her a push in the right direction.

In wars, there are casualties. And collateral damage. So it wasn’t their fault per se if other people got wet too. Until blood got spilled. Gavin’s blood. Tina’s kayak bumped against a rock, making her lose her balance and fucking up her aim. Her paddle hit him on the nose. Bullseye.

Gavin cradled his nose with two hands, groaning curses under his breath. His paddle fell in the water, but that would be of later care. Fuck, this hurt!

“Fuck! Gavin! Are you alright?” Tina shouted, her kayak spinning in the rapid water. If his nose didn’t hurt so much, Gavin would have laughed at how his friend had to turn her head every time her kayak turned away from him again.

Another blue kayak pulled alongside, his lost paddle resting on Nines’ lap. “Are you always this lucky, detective?”

“Depends on what you call lucky.”   
And wasn’t that the truth this time? His nose hurt like a bitch, yet it got Nines to talk to him again. Those cool grey eyes were focused on Gavin, the yellow sunglasses shoved up in Nines’ hair, making it stick up at odd angles.  _ Cute _ . Gavin didn’t know if he should thank Tina or hit her. Maybe a bit of both; his nose really hurt. Gavin pulled his hands back, grimacing when he saw how much blood was on them. 

“That was a hard hit. Maybe it’s broken,” Nines said worriedly. He held on to Gavin’s kayak with one hand, the other hand on the two paddles in his lap. Looking around, he seemed to think hard. On their right was a forest, on their left a field with cows.   
Nines instructed Gavin to hold on to the back of the instructor’s kayak and he quickly paddled the two of them to the river bank. With swift movements he pulled his long legs out of his kayak and jumped in the knee high water. A moment later his kayak was on the shore and he pulled Gavin’s kayak close to help him out. The detective could only watch how the tall instructor lifted the other kayak on the shore too. The edge of the river bank was cut off abruptly, probably because it was dug off by an excavator. Gavin made a move to try and crawl up the shore, when Nines presence right behind him made him turn.   
“Up you go,” the instructor said and lifted him up to sit on the grassy edge. Gavin knew he was a bit shorter than Nines, though this was ridiculous! He was not a child!  
He bit down on his protest when Nines moved to stand between his knees, hands moving up to his face. “May I see?”

Gavin’s cheeks flushed immediately, although that probably wasn’t visible with all the blood on his face. “You know what you’re doing?” he gritted out between his teeth. The pain was still immense, tears streaming down his face.

Nines shrugged. “I’m learning to be an ER nurse, I think I know a thing or two.” 

“Really?” Gavin’s surprise hurt his nose some more and so did the grimace he pulled in result. That particular topic didn’t come up in their talk last night!

The outdoor instructor carefully examined his nose, taking care not to cause him too much pain. Gavin would have enjoyed this moment more if he wasn’t in agony and if his vision wasn’t blurred because of his overly enthusiastic tear ducts. He also tried not to think too hard on how he must look right now, his face covered in blood and tears and what not.  
“I don’t think it’s broken,” Nines said after a few moments, taking his hands down and patting Gavin on his thighs shortly.

“Thought so,” Gavin answered. “Didn’t feel like it.” 

“You’ve broken your nose before?” Nines asked conversationally. He pushed himself up on the shore and started to dig around in his kayak. He pulled out a small first aid kit and returned to squat down next to Gavin. 

“I did. Fucked up my breathing. Is not the case now.” Talking was still a bit hard, so Gavin kept it short. He would have loved to talk about Nines’ aspirations to become a nurse, yet that would have to wait.

“Is that when you got the scar?” Next to him, Nines cocked his head a little to the side.

“No. Other story.”

“Another time then,” Nines said, coming to stand in front of him again, in the water. Gavin’s heart leaped at the possibility for another time. He reminded himself to kiss Tina for her stupid action later.  
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Gavin pulled off his already wet T-shirt, carefully avoiding his face. There were blood stains all the way down the front of the navy shirt. “This is ruined anyway.” 

Nines soaked the shirt in the river and used it to gently clean Gavin’s face. The detective let him, leaning in readily. The tears had stopped and according to Nines the flow of blood had let down considerably too. 

“I hope you don’t think I do this shit to get your attention,” Gavin said quietly as Nines rubbed his cheek clean, holding him still by his chin.

“The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” Nines answered, stopping his movements to look Gavin in the eyes.

Gavin flushed again, averting his eyes. “Not that I don’t like it…”

“You do?” The question was innocent, curious even. This time Nines had averted his gaze too, rinsing the shirt in the water and wringing it out.

“I do.”   
Gavin felt like a highschooler all over again, admitting to his crush he liked him. This time his crush didn’t look all weird at him, though; the tips of Nines’ ears turned red and he was way too invested in wringing out Gavin’s shirt.

He didn’t get a real answer to his confession, with Nines handing him the shirt and keeping his eyes somewhere left from Gavin’s head. “Here, better put it back on. We don’t want you to add sunburn to your injuries.”

With his shirt back on and his nostrils plugged with cotton from the first aid kit, they were ready to go. Nines also gave him some painkillers, all from that nifty little kit. With just the two of them, they actually made good time and they arrived at the campsite not long after the rest of the group. 

Tina didn’t even wait for him to get to the shore. She ran into the water and hugged him forcefully while he still sat in his kayak. Gavin almost shrieked embarrassingly.  _ Almost _ . “Careful, bitch! You want to drown me too?”

His friend grabbed his face between her hands and pushed it from side to side. “Oh my god! You’re even more ugly now. There’s no hope for you anymore!” 

Gavin watched Nines walk up to Connor, the strong lines of his back beautifully on display in his wetsuit. “Nah,” he said, “I think there’s still hope for me.”


	4. Day four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is on the toilet, thinking about the night before. And he has to climb rocks. Even with all that, it is a far better day than he would have thought!

Gavin woke up very early the next morning, a certain pressure low in his stomach urging him to find his way to the toilet. With bare feet in his shoes and a T-shirt quickly thrown on he walked over the silent campfield towards the washroom. The sun was up, yet none of the other campers were awake yet. 

"That is the only benefit of waking up this early," Gavin grumbled to himself as he closed the door of one of the stalls behind him. Now he could go about his business in private, without having to think about others who heard - or smelled - what he’s doing. Gavin was not opposed to camping, although the public toilets were certainly a big turn off. 

He blamed the cookout from last night for his early rise this morning. An abundance of meat never sat well with his digestive system. However, last night  _ was _ fun. Old Ben turned out to be a true grill master, with Chris as his talented assistant. The assortment of food was good, with something for every taste. 

They had a barbecue because it was their last night here, they would leave this afternoon. Gavin had mixed feelings about that. He was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed again, with only his cats as companions instead of nine other people who made strange and annoying noises in their sleep. He even looked forward to returning to his job, far away from the sometimes cringeworthy team building activities from this weekend. Home lacked the presence of a certain outdoor instructor, however. 

Gavin considered the possibility of hiring Nines as a personal trainer, quickly dismissing the idea when he thought of how Nines was probably too decent to get involved with clients. Besides, Gavin knew well enough how to keep his body fit for the job. Spending money on a personal trainer would be a waste; not that he was opposed to spending money on Nines. His eyes fixated on a small spider who made his home inside the toilet stall, Gavin thought back to the cookout from last night.

*** 

The brothers arrived in the familiar white and black 4x4 vehicle, two grills and a bunch of styrofoam boxes that kept the food cool loaded in the back. Everyone helped to set everything up, some men arguing goodnaturedly about the best way to light the grills until officer Collins took the lead. The guy turned out to have a big ass grill in his backyard, one he even used to prepare his Christmas dinner on.

“How come you never invited me to a cookout?” Gavin asked casually as he watched how the coals slowly turned white and red with heat. He took a sip from his beer, his hand wet from the condensation on the cold bottle. 

“Because you never learned how to share, prick,” Anderson answered for Collins. He lightly shouldered the detective to the side, two beers in his hands. He handed one to the grill master and they clinked the bottles together in a toast.   
“No wonder your partners always run off,” he added with a cynical undertone.

That was rubbing salt in a wound Gavin had been nurturing for years already, and the old geezer knew it. In his roughly fourteen years on the job Gavin had cycled through more than a handful of partners, almost every one of them leaving on less than friendly terms. He worked without a partner at the moment, not for the first time in his career. It was not something Gavin was proud of and it even kept him awake at night every now and then, but hell if he would let that show!

“Let’s keep things civil, gentlemen,” the polite voice of Connor cut in. Although he sounded polite, there was an air of authority to his voice, daring them to continue their argument. The instructor had an apron in his hand, holding it out to Ben; it was fire truck red, with ‘license to grill’ in bold letters on the front. Gavin took that as his cue to leave, seething with anger. He had several things he wanted to tell Anderson, none of them friendly. Connor’s presence made him keep it inside though, not wanting to get another lecture on how they desperately needed team building exercises. 

“How’s your nose?” 

In his anger Gavin totally missed how Nines was standing in his line of fire. He had intended to stomp off to the riverbank, seeking to clear his head there. And now this handsome, friendly giant was in his way.  
“Fucking fine,” he huffed aggravatedly, not able to curb his anger this fast. He walked another three steps past Nines - the guy clearly taken aback by his rude answer - before he stopped in his tracks. His hands were curled in fists by his sides, one fist clenching down on the beer bottle.   
Gavin glanced back over his shoulder to see Nines looking at him with a frown.  _ Shit _ . Anderson really knew how to fuck things up for him. Gavin wanted to hit something. Someone. That old fucker preferably. With a chair.   
Fuck. He needed a smoke. 

It was Tina who came to find him by the waterside. He smothered his second cigarette bud in the grass, dumping it inside the empty beer bottle. His friend flopped down on the grass beside him, holding out a new beer to him. “Cooled down a bit?” 

“A bit,” Gavin grumbled. He wasn’t mad anymore, the anger had been replaced by embarrassment - which pissed him off too. He stormed off and now he had to return in front of everybody, like a dog with his tail between his legs. At the precinct he could use the excuse of getting coffee from the vendor at the street whenever he needed air. It was not like Mike and his coffee cart where anywhere around here.

“You shouldn’t get riled up like that every time someone pushes your buttons,” Tina mused, looking out over the water. As usual, her guess for the source of his anger was right on the money. Not that it was hard, there wasn’t anyone at the precinct who could get under his skin like Anderson.  
“Maybe you really should try that anger management course Anderson suggested.”

“Hell no!”

“Well, then at least don’t spoil the evening for others!”

“The fuck do you mean?” Gavin made a face at her. He didn’t think anyone was bothered by him sitting by the river. They probably didn’t even miss him.

“Well, for starters: you are here sulking by the river while I need you to get me some bread!”

“Why don’t you get your own bread?” Really, Tina could be ridiculous at times.

“Because I don’t want to get skewered!” Tina nodded in the direction of the tables with food. “Nines is standing there with a bread knife. He looks like he wants to cut up something else than a baguette.”  
She grinned at Gavin broadly. “I need you to distract him while I get me some of that bread.”

Gavin sighed exaggeratedly. “You’re lucky I’m hungry.”   
They got to their feet and made their way back to the cookout. Nines was standing at one of the tables, his back to them. He was cutting up the baguettes, like Tina said. And she was right, he seemed tense; Gavin could see it in the lines of his back. He must have been staring at the instructor far more often than he thought, if he could recognise his mood without seeing his face.

Gavin decided to make a bit of a show of it, masking the embarrassing part of his return. Maybe he could even make Nines forget about his rude behaviour from earlier. He put the mouth of his almost empty beer bottle at Nines his back and used the voice he usually reserved for taking down criminals. “Detroit Police! Put the knife down!”

They must have really caught Nines off guard, because the knife clattered down on the table and the man nearly fell over his own feet in his hurry to turn and get a view of his attackers. Gavin’s hands flew up to steady him, grabbing his biceps. “Whoa, easy, big guy! It's a joke!”  
He quickly put his beer bottle down, his hand returning to Nines’ arm automatically. “Didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”

Nines with bewildered eyes and flushed cheeks was a feast for the eyes. Gavin almost kissed him right then and there.

“Don’t ever do that again,” the instructor exclaimed breathlessly. His large hands cupped around Gavin’s elbows for further support. “Damn it, Gavin. You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“Is he swearing? I think you broke him, Gav!” Tina smirked around a mouth full of bread.

Her remark cut straight through Gavin’s fantasies of Nines saying his name in that out of breath voice of his over and over again, in a completely different context. A bit startled he let go of Nines, taking a step back. “Didn’t know you got scared so easily, big guy,” he smirked, putting on a face.

“Serves him right for scaring others waving that big knife around.” Tina pointed accusingly at Nines with a slice of the baguette. The instructor gave her a confused look, his heart rate presumably still in the process of settling down. 

“Ignore the crazy woman,” Gavin suggested, motioning to the grill with a jerk of his head. “Wanna get something to eat?”

Ben and Chris had all kinds of meat on the grill. Gavin had a plate with salad, cutlery and two beers in his hands, Nines had two empty plates for the meat. Chris held up some ribs with a tong and put them on one of the plates. Gavin shook his head when Nines looked back to him to see if he wanted ribs too.  
“No pork for me.”   
He chose a steak and two chicken kebabs with bell pepper; Nines also picked up some kebabs. They found a seat at one of the tables, next to Tina. She immediately stole one of Gavin’s kebabs from his plate.   
“Want a beer to go with that?” Gavin asked, sarcasm lining his words. 

“Yes, please,” she said, unashamedly biting a piece of meat from his kebab. 

“Any reason you don’t eat pork?” Nines asked curiously.

Gavin tried to shrug the question away, yet Tina laughed, making Nines look from one to the other. Now he had to answer. Not that he wanted to, because the reason for not eating pork wasn’t anything sophisticated. In fact, it wasn’t anything he wanted Nines to think of, really.  
“My skin breaks out if I eat pork,” Gavin mumbled quickly. God, that sounded vain. And gay.

“Ah, right,” Nines said after a bite. “I thought it had something to do with cannibalism.”

Gavin froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Tina snorted. “Are you calling Gavin a pig?”

Nines blinked and slowly the tips of his ears turned red. “Not Gavin as a person,” he rushed to say. “It was a joke!”  
The detective put the piece of steak in his mouth, chewing slowly. He raised an eyebrow at the instructor, who was clearly aware he was digging his own grave.  
“A joke,” Nines tried feebly. “You know: pork, pigs. Cops are called pigs. Cannibalism!”

It was silent for a few agonizing seconds. Then Gavin chuckled. “That was a joke? Jezus, Nines, you really suck at making jokes!”

“You do,” Tina agreed easily. Like Gavin, she was holding back a full on smile.

“I think it’s best if you leave the jokes to me in the future.” Gavin ignored the excited kick to his ankle Tina gave him under the table. His mouth was working faster than his brain again, no need for her to remind him of it.

Nines’ eyes grew bigger at the possible implications of Gavin’s words. He even bit his lower lip, enticing another kick out of Tina. This one was harder. Then the instructor regained his cool. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I might drop dead some day if your ‘stick ’m up joke’ is anything to go by.”

“Don’t worry,” Tina snickered. “Gavin knows CPR -”  
“And mouth-to-mouth,” she added, now roaring with laughter.

So much for being subtle.

***

Their last activity for the weekend was rock climbing. They all had to wear one of those balls-restricting harnesses; for the first half hour Gavin kept pulling at the straps around his hips and thighs, yet the damn thing refused to become more comfortable.   
One person would climb the rock wall, the other secured the line. They were somewhere up a hill, in the middle of the woods. The site was perfect for rock climbing, the lines already attached to the edge of the rocky side of the hilltop. 

Gavin leaned back a little in his harness, his own weight supported by Tina’s weight on the line. He had his feet planted firmly on the ground, feeding the line through his hands like Connor and Nines showed them.   
“Your left foot a little to the right,” he called up to his friend. “No, your _other_ right. Oh my god, your _other_ _foot_ , you daft cunt!”

Tina yelled at him without looking down. “You try thinking when your life is hanging by a thread! Literally!”

Gavin tightened the line for emphasis. “Bullshit! There’s no way you can fall.”

“Maybe try some positive reinforcement,” Connor said, coming to check up on them. The guy was magically attracted by bickering. Every time Gavin had words with someone, he showed up. Though this time he was wrong, this was just how he and Tina talked to each other.  
“You’re doing great, Tina!” the outdoor instructor called up to her. “If you move your left foot a little to the right, you’ll find your next support.”

She moved the right foot this time, finding the small ridge immediately. “That’s exactly what I told her to do!” Gavin exclaimed. 

“It’s all about how you deliver the message,” Connor smiled. “You know, you might benefit from meditation.”

“The fuck?” Gavin tore his eyes away from Tina to stare incredulously at Connor. 

“It’s actually really helpful! Nines and I have learned about it when we were backpacking in India.”

“You also learned about explosive diarrhea there,” Nines added dryly, walking by with a couple of harnesses in his hands.

Connor made a face. “Ah, yes. I guess not everything about that trip needs to be shared.”

After Tina got down, it was Gavin’s turn to climb. He was not particularly excited by that, preferring to keep his feet on the ground. To have to hang from a rock wall by his toes and fingertips did not exactly make him a happy camper.

“Wait, wait!” Tina called out while she struggled to keep the line tight as Gavin climbed.

“Get your shit together, Chen!” Gavin yelled down. “I’m at least ten feet up here!”  
Of course, Gavin fucking slipped in the next moment, the line not holding him up until after a fall of a couple of feet. His stomach was now in his throat. “Jezus! Chen!” 

“Sorry!” she shouted back. “I’m not seriously trying to kill you!” 

“Your track record is not speaking for you this weekend!” Gavin yelled nervously. He was not liking this  _ at all _ . He clawed at the rock wall, trying to regain some foothold. Or toehold, in this case. His shirt was already clinging to his back and it wasn’t even that hot today.  
He let out a long held breath when Nines took over the line, expertly letting Gavin sail down. He even tried the weird jumps against the wall Nines told him to do. The instructor helping him out of the mess Tina created seemed to be a theme this weekend. Tina knew that too, judging from her sheepish smile when he had solid ground beneath his feet again.  
Nines even had to help him get the carabiner hook off so he could detach the line from his harness. The instructor said something about the thing having a ‘child safety lock’, at which Gavin only sneered. He couldn’t be mad, however, with Nines standing so close to him, his hands working on the carabiner hook between them. 

The grande finale of their weekend out was abseiling down a cliff. It was maybe twenty feet, enough to give Gavin the chills. Connor showed them how it was done, easily chatting while he was leaning backwards off the cliff, nothing but air beneath him and his toes balancing on a teeny tiny ridge. He stepped back onto solid ground with the ease of someone who had done this at least a hundred times before.   
He gave them a chipper smile. “Who’s first?” 

One after the other, Gavin’s colleagues went abseiling down the cliff. His vision from the beginning of the weekend was almost right: Connor was a pro in saying just the right things to get you to sail down the cliff. The only difference was that Nines didn’t threaten you to go over: he merely kept his mouth shut and left the positive reinforcement to his brother.

“As a cop you sometimes have to talk people off the ledge,” Gavin said to Tina, “this is the same, but with completely different results.”

“The results are not so different,” Tina said, taking a careful peek over the edge. “Nobody dies.”

“Yet,” Gavin answered with a little feeling for drama.

“Scared, detective?” Nines threw them a smirk over his shoulder. The guy was in his element here.

“I take chasing after criminals through dark alleys above dangling from a rope any day!” Gavin made a face. He was not looking forward to this, climbing the rock wall had been enough for one day. 

When almost everyone was down, Connor went down too. Of course he had to show off, taking one big leap and letting the line sail through the hooks at a high speed, only braking when he was two feet off the ground. 

“Ladies first,” Gavin motioned to Tina when they were the last two to go down. She rolled her eyes at him, though she obediently let Nines secure the line on her.   
“Don’t fall to your death.” 

Tina flipped him off and started to ‘walk’ down, with her feet firmly planted against the rock wall. Nines urged her to try jumping and she did, going down the cliff with small jumps. All too soon it was Gavin’s turn. He subconsciously chewed on his bottom lip, glaring at the ledge. Nines tugged him closer by his harness, hands already working to fasten the line. “Nervous, Gavin?”

“No,” Gavin lied. “I love jumping off cliffs.”

The instructor chuckled. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, well… where’s my incentive?”

“Incentive?” For a second Nines looked genuinely confused, wondering if the thrill of abseiling wasn’t enough in itself already. It probably was, in Nines’ brain. Not for Gavin, though. 

“Yes,” Gavin smiled slyly. There was no-one around, there was only Nines to hear it if he fucked this up. “What do I get if I go over that edge?”  
He had not stepped back after Nines fastened the line, they were only separated by mere inches. Nerves crawled up his spine, yet Gavin steeled himself. After this he would have to pack his bag and go home; it was now or never.

“What do you want?” Nines asked, his hands loosely resting on his hips. He had to look down to look Gavin in the face, yet he also had not stepped back from their position.

“How about your phone number?” Gavin dared to ask. "Oh, and a kiss."  
He tried very hard to keep his gaze on Nines' face. The tall instructor said nothing, it was as if he was frozen in time. His face betrayed nothing. Jumping over that edge became more enticing with the second for the detective. Gavin stared down hardened criminals in interrogation rooms for a living, yet waiting for Nines’ reaction was more scary. 

"Okay."

Gavin's chest deflated when the air escaped him. "Okay?"

"Deal," Nines said quietly. He looked awfully shy all of a sudden. His hands dangled down his sides, loosely balled in fists. 

They looked at each other, the silence between them suddenly heavy. Each inch between them was palpable, it was as if the distance wasn't great enough and at the same time it felt like there were miles between them, miles that they wanted to cross in an instant. Gavin thought 'fuck it' one last time and raised onto his toes. Steadying himself on the straps of Nines' harness, he connected his lips with the ones he had wanted to kiss ever since he saw them. 

Their lips were a little chapped from being outside the whole day. Gavin’s mouth was dry from the tension and he wobbled a little on his toes. Yet none of that mattered. It was a kiss. Their first kiss. And Gavin didn’t care that it wasn’t a perfect one. Because the look that Nines gave him when they released, told him there would be more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love it if you would click that heart or leave me a comment. I love hearing from my readers!


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